the world is ours
by MadnessIsTheMurderer
Summary: It was by force that they were kept together. She was commonly called a slut, a party princess. He, a tight-ass, a 'cool' type. It was never meant for them to get along. A test, set by high society. A game for her to beat. A girl for him to tame. spoiltOC
1. Chapter 1

The next day, everyone was talking about it.

_Did you hear? _They'd say to one another in hushed voices.'

Of course, the topic of discussion was always the same; Kushiro Miku's latest endeavor that had been seen, recorded, and posted on the internet for all to watch and learn from.

Because, naturally, Kushiro Miku was the life of everything. She was a redhead with a natural talent for sparking up the naughtiness in anyone she met, who lit up like a star under the spotlight, evoking the wildness out of a dull party with a wave of her hand and a keg for a bunch of non-drinkers.

And most obviously, because they were speaking about a party that had happened the night before, it was only logical that the party princess in question was not to be seen at the prestigious school of Ouran High until the third period class, to which she arrived nearly an hour late to.

Many smiled as she walked in; what had happened, was all that ran through their minds. Would they find out?

Ootori Kyoya, on the other hand, sighed heavily when she sauntered into the room with that smug grin on an oval face with seductive yellow eyes, plump lips that were bitten red.

He hadn't ever liked her company; she disrupted everything. Anytime she was in class – which was very rarely, he thanked God – the whole seventy five minutes of time designated for learning of math or other such subjects was devoted strictly to learning about the events of the party the last eve.

Kushiro Miku was most definitely living the life of the rich and famous, enjoying every minute and every dime of her wealth in every possible way she could. Everyone knew she flaunted her family's fortune like nothing – shopping escapades were a daily must for the seventeen year old teen with the lean and toned body always dressed to kill. Her fame was constantly written into stone by the numerous magazine articles she appeared in, the columnist always speaking about how she was either the greatest woman to ever live or the biggest and most destructive force ever to walk the earth.

She didn't care, though. Miku walked with her held high, her stilettos tight around her long legs and shirts always just that little bit too low, revealing just that little bit too much cleavage. When in school, though, she walked differently. Most usually hungover, her yellow dress was wrinkled and disheveled, much reflecting the appearance of vibrant red hair and mid-thigh socks that always seemed to be at different heights. Occasionally, her shoes would be on the wrong feet and her dress on backwards.

Yet even in such a horrid state, the beautiful woman still managed to turn heads and attract whistles.

It made Kyoya sick with disgust.

Today, though, the hungover girl was most noticeably in a better condition than most days. Her makeup was applied flawlessly – as it was on normal days, though it went heavily against school policies in the foremost – and her dress was on correctly, socks at matching heights and her brown shoes on the correct feet, tied perfectly.

Her hair was most elegantly styled, curled into loose ringlets that hung around small shoulders.

The teacher stood immediately as she walked in, angry eyes staring into her all-knowing golden ones.

"Your report, Miku-san, though I doubt you have it-" he had started, unable to finish his last word of 'finished' before she threw a thick stack of papers on his desk nonchalantly.

"Relax, Hiro," she said coolly, calling the male teacher by his first name instead of the more respectable title he deserved. "I do my work, you know. I just don't care to show up."

Foiled in his attempt to have the girl sent to detention, Nirashi Hiro sat down in his wheel chair and crossed one leg over the other. "I can clearly see that. And when you do, I assume it's only because there are no parties to attend to?"

She sat down in her designated seat towards the front of the room – second frond room, mid center. It was said that the Nirashi teacher could see her much better from that spot than of any other.

"Not the case at all," she responded, shrugging off her bag before dropping her math textbook on her desk. "I only come to school to _find out _about the parties I could be attending. Which is usually why I'm not here the next day. You see?" She gives a smug smile to the teacher, leaning forward and pushing her ample breasts forward, as if trying to seduce the thirty-some-odd old teacher of hers.

"Well," he says in a cocky tone. Of course, this was the time of his career that he had been dying to have. It had taken many months and much convincing on his part, but he had finally gotten the request through and approved, so now was the perfect time to condemn his partying student to a life set by rules and limitations. "I'm most sorry to disappoint you, Miku-san, but the Superintendent, school boards, and every possible figure of authority has signed a petition stating that, unless you are tutored by a student of our choosing and shape up considerably, you will be kicked out of school and expelled from Ouran permanently."

She stared at the teacher for a moment, her eyes threatening, daring him to continue on with telling her of such a stupid thing. Soon after she leaned back into her seat, relaxed, at ease. "Go ahead," she taunted. "Sick anyone on me. Give me your hardest egg to crack, and I bet I'll have him giving it to me in a matter of days." She grinned again, twirling a ringlet around her finger idly. "I'll make your man my bitch."

To this the teacher returns her arrogant look with one of his own.

"As deemed by the board and with the already-attained approval of his father, Ootori Kyoya will be your tutor for the next year and a half that you reside within the classes of Ouran."

Slowly, Kyoya looked towards the beautiful girl who now had her eyes closed, a small smile on her lips. Dammit, how he resented her. How had this been decided without his knowing? Yet if his father had approved, if he had been chosen by the board, how was he ever to say no because of such a petty reason as 'hate' or 'intent to murder'?

"Ah, good play, Hiro," she says with a light tone, shaking her finger to the man. Instantly, she stands, nearly falling over due to the slight bit of alcohol still left in her system, dizzying her momentarily. "I accept your challenge! Lay out the rules, sir! I'll beat you in this game fairly!"

Kyoya's hand gripped tightly around the mechanical pencil he held. It snapped soon after the teacher began speaking.

"You are to accompany Ootori-san to whatever he does. This is to reduce the amount you party, as well as to connect you to a student who has succeeded in everything you have not. The board has understood that Ootori-san participates in after-school activities, and it has been arranged by the superintendent that you will accompany Ootori-san's group to whichever destination they go to, be it on a break, after school, weekend or similar. Consider your life of partying to be dissolved quickly, for you are nothing more than Ootori-san's follower from here on out."

She grinned. "Is that all, Hiro? 'Cause if following him is all I have to do, I'm sure I could still have my fun with _someone..._"

The teacher sighed, shook his head. In a way, he liked the girl with the strong will. But in many more, he hated her. Always a disruption, always too concerned on alcohol and boys to be even mildly interested in school. The fact that she excelled in his classes was hardly a legitimate reason for brushing him off as so and talking to her classmates the whole time she was there. "Ootori-san also controls your schedule. If you have plans for a Friday evening and he does, as well, he may tell you not to go to your event and, instead, find an alternative plan for that evening. You may not lie to Ootori-san, and any thoughts you have concerning your love of partying must be shared with him, to which he will deem if you are able to do so or not." Hiro pauses, looks at the serene face of the pale girl. Anger courses through him as he notices that she's not even mildly concerned about the situation she has forcefully been placed in. "Your life is no longer yours, Miku-san. Aren't you even mildly concerned?"

She laughs slightly, shakes her head. "Of course not," she answers easily, throwing open her textbook to a random page and pressing her pencil against it. "That tight-ass has so many friends I could hook up with..."

And at that, Kyoya placed his head against his desk.

Yes, this was to be the longest year and a half of his life, and whether he liked it or not, he was stuck doing it. To disobey his father and the wishes of other important people meant certain dishonor.

It was all he could do to hold back the scream building in the back of his throat.

** [Author's Note]**

** SO! This is just something I'm doing on the side. I decided that the majority of my stories published on FanFiction are so depressive... So here's something to lighten the mood of my current repertoire of writing. **

** I'm pretty surprised that no one's done this before... You'd think that, since everyone's so rich, you'd come across _at least _one spoiled brat... **

** So essentially, that's what this OC is. Yep. So, I hope you'll stick around.**

** And review. Yeah, definitely review. Even if it's to say, 'Well, I'm leaving!' or something of that rather. **

** Ta-ta for now. **


	2. Chapter 2

It was aggravating, having her around him all the time. It was bad enough that he had to see her four out of the five periods a day, due to very similar schedules. Even lunch now had to be spent with her, since it was a known fact that she was a fiend of bringing rye or vodka to school in the most unusual carriers possible.

She seemed to make it a point of annoying him constantly, of having him try to break out of this stupid deal before she could. Kyoya knew just how much it must have tortured her, hearing all those idiotic rules that she was forced to obey, lest she wished to be kicked out of school and disowned as the heir to her parent's multimillion dollar legacy.

"Hey, Kyoya-chan," she called for the fifteenth time in the past five minutes, eagerly tapping the keys to the BlackBerry she never kept more than two inches away from her.

"What do you want?" he choked out, far too tired of repeating the fact that she had no right to call him by such an embarrassing and arrogant name as she did. Who exactly did she think she was, anyways?

"Can I go to a party this Friday evening?" she asked.

"No," he replied coldly, sinking the chopsticks he held straight through the middle of the pork he was awaiting to eat. She refused to stop asking such foolish questions, though, and whining about it when he denied the requests.

"Why not?" she cried futilely. Of course, she already knew why; he wasn't supposed to let her go to a single party or have even one sip of a beverage containing even the slightest amount of alcohol. There wasn't even a party this Friday, though Miku was sure she could easily arrange there to be. Nevertheless, most of the parties she was asking to attend to were purely made up to deliberately annoy the raven-haired man who always retained such a cool and collected composure.

She would break the Ootori boy soon enough.

"I told you time and time again," he hissed through his teeth. So close, he knew. He was so close to exploding. But he couldn't do that, not at school. No one was to know of the demon he had living inside him. At Ouran, he was Ootori Kyoya – the cool boy who showed no signs of negative or horrible emotions. She would never break him from that label. "You are not allowed to attend a party until you graduate."

Slowly, the beautiful lady leaned across the table from him, getting dangerously close to his face. It was obvious from the dark look in the gray eyes belonging to the lean boy staring at her that he was not happy, and more than likely, quite filled with intent to kill. But she didn't care, only smiling her best smile and 'turning on' her seductive charm that everyone told her she had.

"You know, you and I could always ditch the afternoon classes and have fun somewhere. Say, the washrooms. Or my house, if you prefer somewhere soft for your first time." She giggled darkly, shifting in her seat slightly. "If you wanted to make it really legit and romantic, I could even pull out all the cards for you and get rose petals scattered across the floor, candles lit up and everything... Maybe even a dinner, though we'd probably use the table itself..."

"Might I inform you that this is a form of harassment?" he replied coolly, taking a bite of the pork he had earlier skewered.

As her yellow eyes met his sinister gray ones, she pulled a tape recorder from underneath the table.

"Might _I _inform you that voice recordings can be easily reworked so that you end up as the bad guy trying to get _me _into bed with you?"

"You have a record, Kushiro-san, of being manipulative and clever."

"As do you, Kyoya-chan."

His hands clenched tightly around his chopsticks as he threatened through his teeth in a quiet tone, "Do stop calling me that moronic nickname."

As they snapped in half, the long fingers of the teenaged sex fiend wove themselves into her purse, emerging with a new pair of chopsticks in the paper casing, like the ones they give away free at commoner restaurants. It was an insult, he knew, and as she left them there in front of him, he couldn't help but feel himself being degraded, knowing that using them was his only option to eat.

"A moronic nickname for a moronic fool. I certainly think it fits. Don't you?"

Her smile was cruel as she left the table to join the long cafeteria lineup.

God, did he hate her. Just seeing her slender back made him want to stab those cheap chopsticks of hers straight through her shoulder blades and out of her chest, to see her bleeding and gasping for air.

But he shook his head, banishing such horrible thoughts from his mind before it quite came to reality, like he was afraid it would. Just how much of her could he withstand before going mad...?

Nervously, the six remaining Host Club members – who had been watching the scene unfold from a few tables away in an attempt to avoid the angry wrath of the Shadow King – emerged to his side slowly.

"K-Kyo-chan...?" Haninozuka Mitsukuni – more widely known as simply 'Honey' – said slowly. To the ears of the Ootori child, 'Kyo-chan' was much too alike the annoying 'Kyoya-chan' as his enemy called him. So a merciless glare filled with hatred was sent in the small blond Haninozuka's way.

"What are you doing around her?" Fujioka Haruhi asked innocently. She hadn't even known, in all honest, who the woman he had been forced to look after really was. The only thing the scholarship student knew of Kushiro Miku was that she was trouble, and definitely not someone of value would keep in proximity to themselves.

"It's not by choice," assured the gray eyed genius who had gotten himself into such a bad position.

"She's coming back," Hitachiin Hikaru and Kaoru said at the same time, pointing towards the oddly beautiful bombshell who had a knack for causing trouble. With her delicate hands, she carried a red tray, scarce of much food other than the single muffin and glass drink.

Without even saying a word, she slid into the bench table in front of Kyoya, ignoring those who had joined the table.

"Check it," she stated, shoving the drink into Kyoya's area of the table.

He glared at her for a moment, but she crossed her arms. "It's in the rules, man. You have to, or you lose."

The others watched as Kyoya slowly poured a small amount of her drink into his own empty cup, tasting the apple juice inside to make sure it contained no alcohol whatsoever.

"This is absurd," he complained, waving his hand to dismiss it as free of any addictive. She snatched the drink, holding it above the table and swishing it idly, leaning on the table and staring at the beautiful boy eating complacently.

"W-Well... We're gonna go..." the blond and awkward Suoh Tamaki stated, trying to escape with his group. As he was almost out of the table, though, Kyoya's hand grabbed his wrist, and with one deathly look, the group of six sat down once more.

"So, Kyoya-chan, are we going to the Host Club today?" Miku asked deviously.

"Of course," responded he, closing his eyes and finishing the food he had been yearning for since she appeared.

A grin took over pink lips, and she leaned forwards more. "Are you absolutely sure in this decision?"

He opened his eyes then, looking up at her with all the anger he had shown to others.

She shrugged then, standing up from her seat and getting onto the seat she had previously been sitting on, then onto the table, nearly stepping on the plate he ate off of.

"May I have your attention, gentlemen of Ouran High!" she shouted royally, her hands high in the air. "I, Kushiro Miku, will be at the Host Club today, entertaining and wooing all of you lovely lads out there! Please, join me in the Host Club room and prepare to be swept off your feet by my charms!"

With no sound to acknowledge her speech, she sat back down, satisfied in her 'feat' even though it had not seemed to generate an uproar.

Kyoya glared at her, his hands clenching on his chopsticks once more before they cracked. In an angry fit, he dropped it on the table and stared her down.

"You are most annoying," he pointed out.

"Then end this and go tell Hiro you're not doing it. Let me win," she replied smugly.

This was going to be easier than she thought.

Kyoya got closer to her already-in-reach face, staring directly in her eyes with everything he had been concealing for the past morning. In that moment, he looked like he could slaughter thousands of innocents and feel nothing; the eyes of insanity.

"I. Will not. Lose."

She backed away with a smile on those lips, digging into her purse once again. Her hand emerged with another pair of commoner chopsticks, offering them to him in a rude fashion. "Then the war truly begins now."


	3. Chapter 3

It was completely and utterly irritating, seeing her sitting there with that smug smile on her face, surrounded by male students of Ouran who had actually listened – and responded to, apparently – her earlier announcement on the lunch table. It was a mystery, how she received such a large amount of fans.

Of course, she was not an actual host. In fact, Kyoya had strictly prohibited her from being too close to he or the other six members, in fear that she would prove to be a bad deterrent for the other female customers. So instead, she was banished, along with her rather huge group of men, to the back corner of the room, to where she sat upon the window sill and the men casually spread about below, sitting on the floor.

Often she would laugh as one of them told a story or insulted another male friend playfully, and even more often would she engage in seductive conversation with some, progressively going from innocent to provocative.

He clenched the pencil in his hand tightly, though made sure to release his tightening grip before that, too, broke in half.

God, did Kyoya ever hate that girl. It seemed that, at everything he did, at every turn, she had a solution and a problem that would frustrate him further, condemn him to a life of hidden anger behind those gray eyes.

"O-Ootori-kun?" a timid voice said cautiously, a small and shy girl approaching the usually-cool-and-collected Host.

"Yes?" he replied with a smile.

"Um... W-Well, I was wondering... U-Uh... P-Please don't find me rude, b-but... Are you and K-Kushiro-san getting along alright? I-I heard what happened, so I got a bit worried... She's not the easiest to get along with..."

He smiled, flipped over the papers on his clipboard and placed in on the table he leaned against casually. "Ah, I thank you for being concerned, but she and I are getting along fine. May I ask, Kihiro-chan, why you are interested in this topic?"

The girl – Kihiro Nana, the second daughter of the large Kihiro family, which was quite poor and insignificant compared to his or any other's family – smiled sheepishly and hid behind her long blond hair. "Um... I-It's just because K-Kushiro-san is r-really kind otherwise, so I didn't w-want you to think she was a horrible person, completely..."

Kyoya smiled again. "Of course not. It's obvious she's a good person, just a bit confused, is all."

In his head, though, he was saying a different story. In his head, he was cussing profusely, insulting and degrading the poor Kihiro child without even a moment's thought of mercy. How dare she, approach him and tell such a lie that would even make him _think _that, Kushiro Miku, of all people, was _nice?_ What kind of blasphemy was that? It sickened him to his core, but he didn't let it show, lest he wanted his reputation tainted.

She smiled to him, bowed, and left.

The pencil in the Ootori's hand broke suddenly.

"Dammit..." he muttered under his breath, looking at the ruined bits.

Suddenly, a pencil was dangling in front of his eyes, moving like a summer wave.

"You know, Kyoya-chan, you really need some anger management classes. You're making me replace _everything _you break," said that ominous voice of hers, though others would describe it as sensuous. Quickly, he snatched the pencil from her hand without even a moment's notice, wishing to get her out of his face as quickly as possible. She laughed, walking away with her hand in the air as if to say a goodbye.

"Just so you know," she added through her light laughter, looking over her shoulder and throwing him a competitive glance. "I'm keeping track of everything you made me replace. Expect a bill for it all!"

His hand clenched around the new pencil, too, annoyance coursing through him. Damn, how Kyoya wanted to stab it through her eye, to ram it into her brain and watch everything about her shut off slowly due to the damage he had caused. He wanted to run up to her, to tell her that she was a whore who had little self-respect and even little merit for the world. He wanted to do so many horrible, rude, and possibly illegal things to the girl, but was restricted to it all.

It was all for his family, he repeated in his mind. His father had okay-ed this, as did the school board and the Superintendent – Tamaki's father. They had trusted him with this presumably-mundane task, yet it was constantly turning out to be much more than he could take.

Yet he couldn't let them down. More than they, he couldn't let _himself _down.

Ootori Kyoya had never, _ever _been one to give up without a just cause. And to let her win was _definitely _not a good reason.

He watched, then, as she rejoined her group and received all those adoring stares of the men she was with. Looking over those with her, Kyoya found himself recognizing some very prestigious faces, though none to compare with that of those in the Host Club, or himself. Certainly not himself.

Her laugh echoed through the room then, causing a few to look and watch themselves. It was then that he realized he had to end this, to break away her little group and make her obey. Those stupid things she was doing, such as physically assaulting one man by climbing on top of his body as he lay on the floor, was attracting attention that was not rightfully supposed to be hers. It was tearing apart the fans of the Hosts.

Kyoya approached her then, standing to the side of the group and smiling sinisterly, darkly. She noticed it, too, smiling back in just the same manner.

"May I help you, Kyoya-chan?" she asked innocently, getting off the boy she straddled and instead returning to her perch on the window sill.

"Unfortunately, I'm going to have to ask your friends to leave. You and I are leaving, now, so they are no longer permitted to stay," he said sternly, yet politely as to keep his labeled appearance to those around.

"Aw," she whined, lips pouting out drastically. "Alright, I guess." She stood, dusting off the yellow dress with her hands. "Sorry, guys, but you have to leave now. I'll talk to you sometime, though, alright?" She smiled a blinding, brilliant smile that made them all smile back. And quickly, they had left out the door. She turned to face her black haired companion, her smile turning into something much more demonic than need be. "So, where to, Kyoya-chan?"

"Nowhere," he admitted easily, turning his back on her and walking back towards his post.

"Aw, what a cheap trick. No matter, I'll just _text _them and tell them you were a lying douche," she threatened.

He stopped slowly, turning to face the girl only a few feet from himself. She held her phone in her hand, the other on her flung-out hip, dress weaving itself around her body as if even that, a piece of fabric, was on her side.

"Fine. We'll go," he succumbed. "We'll just drive around somewhere."

She smiled attractively to him, sauntering closer to him and clasping her hands onto his uniform jacket, pressing herself closer. "How about you take me up on my previous offer? Let's go back to my house, have some adult-fun."

He sighed, turning his head away from her and that pathetic attempt to try to embarrass him in front of the others.

"Would you please release me, Kushiro-chan? I have no patience for your trivial games."

Her hands let go, going into the air soon after as if a proof of innocence. "Have it your way, then. You'll fall for me, eventually; they all do." A smug smile took upon her face once more before she turned her back and made her way for the door.

Watching her back intently, Kyoya felt something squeeze his heart tightly. No, it was not love, he knew for a fact. Nor was it even hatred. It was... Something different. Something far, far worse than hatred, like the sick feeling you have when you see someone you thoroughly can't stand, when your teeth clench together instinctively and your hands clam up like you're holding the knife that ends their life.

How dare she make such an assumption, was the only thing running through the boy's mind as he followed her out and down the stairs. To so boldly say that he would, eventually, fall in love with her was quite more than absurd and arrogant. Never, in his life, would he allow himself to have even the most remote romantic feelings for such a horrid being as she; It was nearly a sin to.

She awaited him at the bottom of the steps, leaning against the railing and smiling kindly to him. A thing most concerning for the boy.

"Hey, Kyoya-chan?" she questioned sweetly. He sighed; what the hell did she want?

"What?" he shot harshly.

"Can we go see a movie?"

He stared at the girl for a moment, his gaze hard, dissecting every bit of her current, most appealing expression.

Inwardly, she was gloating most dishonorably about her plan. Of course, it was a way of winning, no matter what. Either way, it had the outcome she desired, be it if he fell in love with her or if he hated her so intensely that he ended the game and allowed her to win and continue with her ways. The movies was the best place to go; everyone there knew her, loved her, and had a fling with her, at one point in their lives. To go there would mean to evoke the most suppressed emotions in a human being and bring them out to fight, especially once they saw she was with another.

Besides, the darkness in a movie theater made a great cover for any dirty business she wished to incorporate on him. Miku knew that, even though he had said no to her previous offers of pleasuring him, he was thinking about it. Even just having looked at him moments before, when she had grabbed his jacket, she knew. He stared at her with something other than the hate she was used to, something more wild and uncontrollable. Lust. An insane kind of yearning.

If she had sex with him, she won. It was only right. And if he revoked the contract to watch over her, she also won. After the battle that would most definitely go on at the theater, one of the two would happen.

"No," he said instead of the 'yes' she had been hoping for. Her hopes dashed, she began to whine.

"Why not?" she cried, following him out the door like a spoiled little sister.

"Because I said so," was his only line of defense. And though she continued to protest, they had gotten into the car he had arranged and drove off. To where, she didn't know, but she did know that he was sitting beside her instead of in the front of the car. She was in the middle seat, and he to her right. Even this situation would work for her plan.

Slowly, she raised her hand. Gently, she would place it on his leg, turn it to his inner thigh and move it up intricately until she reached the groin. Then she would turn to face him and catch those wide eyes with her own glance, and kiss him. It would continue downwards from there, like it always did.

But instead she looked at him, at the concentrated, tired look on her face. And instead, she moved her hand to the seat belt, undid it, and moved to the left of the car.

He looked over to her, curious as to why she would move to suddenly, though he said nothing.

"You look tired," she said, avoiding his eyes as a blush took over her face. How could she had given up such a good opportunity to win? But she didn't want to win by default, just because he was tired. She understood most fully what it was like to be overworked, stressed, and tired. "So... So go to bed!"

He stared at her for a moment longer, trying to analyze her ulterior motive. Finding nothing but her blushing face, he leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes.

"Just don't touch me while I sleep," was his only request before he fell to a slumber instantaneously.

She looked over to his sleeping frame, watching as his well-toned chest heaved up and down, slowly. He was asleep, and in such little time... Miku shook her head, smiling, then leaned forward to speak to the driver.

"Please," she said kindly, "take us to his place."

** [Author's Note]**

** Oh! You people, who read this story and review... You're so kind! Too kind! I just want to tell you all who write back to me about this story that I truly and most honourably respect and value you and your reviews. You don't understand how happy it makes me, seeing that blinking red light on my phone, indicating that I have a review or a story favorite or an alert. It's a most desireable feeling. I can't express how thankful I am to those who review. Thank you so much.**

** I felt so thankful that I decided I could post up another chapter in the same day. I hope that's alright with you guys, since you're the ones I really want to please the most. I do hope you'll review this one, too, though I know it isn't as good as others...**

** Um... I also wanted to say that, I know, this story seems to be progressing rather quickly. And it will do that, since I do not entirely plan to have this stretch out to be a long tale. Most of the fanfiction I have currently written are under 10 chapters, and I believe that – this one – will be just slightly over that mark. So it will be going a bit fast, but it'll make sense. Hopefully.**

** Nevertheless, I do hope you will all continue reading this story! You make it worthwhile, writing it like this. Please, tell me what you think of this one, too! Have a good night, my lovely readers!**


	4. Chapter 4

Miku kicked the shadows as she walked home, already too tired to do anything less. To lift her feet fully was too much trouble, as was to walk any faster than the pathetic pace she was currently hiking down the street. All around her, busy people with places to go and not enough time to get there passed her on the street, casting back questioning glances as they identified the Ouran uniform and wondered, why wasn't she driving to her destination? Quiet honestly, as she sighed, she wondered that, too.

Why hadn't she phoned home and asked for a ride home? Why hadn't she called someone to pick her up and take her someplace, be it her official driver or a friend?

It seemed completely absurd, at that moment when she was so tired and defeated, but she knew the real reason.

She didn't want to go home at any means. Nor did she want to see any of her friends in fear of temptation.

Yes, she was so stressed out recently. Alcohol and partying was all she knew. To go even a _day _without it – like she was to do today – would be hell. Complete hell. Sex was a stress reliever, she knew, and, by god, could she use it now. If she had even one male friend of hers pick her up for even a few moments to drive her somewhere, she couldn't fully guarantee that she wouldn't lose the game right then and there. It was too much of a gamble to take and, most honestly, she did not want to take it, despite the fact that she was well known to take chances.

Another sigh escaped her lips as she turned off the busy street and onto a more secluded side street, going to her own personal haven, the asylum of the restaurant.

As soon as she entered, she was greeted by large smiles and choruses of her name being said by the workers there.

She couldn't even muster up the strength to smile back, her body so dependent on the rush and buzz she received from her usual afternoon drink of vodka. Slowly she took the usual seat in the modern-looking restaurant – the third seat from the door, right by the window overlooking the street she had come off of – and slumped deeply into the seat, her backpack thrown to the other side of the table, onto the booth's seat there while she stretched out on the cushioned seat she sat on.

"Long day?" a waiter asked playfully, sliding into the seat beside her bag and leaning on the black-and-white table. He was beautiful, she knew, even without opening her eyes to look at him. Just by the sound of his voice she knew who it was; Rey, he was called. He had brown eyes and black hair. Part Japanese, part Australian. His hobbies were painting and baking sweets. Favorite color? Orange. Occupation? Waiter and night lighter as a DJ at a local club. She knew everything about him and the rest of the workers; she was a frequent and lonely visitor who often stole their time and left large tips in exchange.

"You wouldn't believe the half of it," she stated with a shake of her head. Suddenly energized from having the opportunity to tell her tale, she sat up and leaned on the table too, close to the boy with the childish face and adorable features. "One of my teachers – that stupid ass Hiro – threatened me by saying that if I didn't smarten up and stop my partying and whatnot, that he'd have me kicked out of Ouran permanently. So he made some jerk – Ootori Kyoya, if you're wondering – is-"

She was cut off by the shocked voice of the boy, exhasperated as he repeated the name of the rich and famous boy she was to be around constantly. "Ootori Kyoya?"

She nodded, "Yeah, him."

"You lucky girl!" he said happily, punching her lightly in the arm, considerate of the fact that she was still a fragile woman. "How awesome would it be to nail an Ootori? They're loaded and respected! You'd be set!"

"Only problem is that I'm forbidden from that shit," she continued on with a sigh. "Damn teacher said I had to ask for permission to do _anything _that normal kids wouldn't do. No partying, no drinking, no having sex with hot guys... And even if I did somehow get permission to have sex, that Ootori guy is such a tight ass. He won't even let me touch him at all!"

"I'm sure you could seduce him?" A devious smile crept on his face, though his eyes showed only the deepest concern.

"I already offered him the chance, but he passed it off as nothing. I think he's concerned about his image, given my reputation and whatnot. Besides, he's in this stupid club where he entertains girls and such, so-"

"A Host Club!" the boy yells, throwing his hands into the air and getting stares from the few patrons still in the restaurant. "God, how do you not know what a Host Club is! They give away sex if you pay enough!"

"I know what it is," she complained with a pout. "But it's not that kind of Host Club. They're like, I don't know, the diet Pepsi of the Host Club world. They're the G-Rated movie, you know? Only about happiness and all that other bullshit no one cares about anymore." She sighs grandly, moving her hands and allowing her head to hit the table. "Honestly, I couldn't even catch a break. This guy is such an ass. I can't stand being rejected, you know. It's so annoying! Especially from someone like him, who's got such a bastard attitude!"

"Well," the man said alluringly, his hand landing on her head, fingers intertwining in her hair. "You know I'd do you if you weren't bound by this, Miku. You're sexy and you know it, so don't let this guy get you down and make you start wearing slacks. Those thing are just horrid. Keep to your skirts, jeans, tight shirts and walk with your head held high, for you are now a tease! And proud of it!"

Her hand hits the table and she laughs, shaking her head against it as her forehead reddens from the friction.

She looks up slightly, a goofy smile on her face. "You're funny, but I'm tired. Let me crash her, okay? Just order something and put it on my bill. Get me a drink, too, so your boss doesn't think I'm loitering like he always does, the jerk."

He smiles and winks to her as he gets up. "You got it, babe."

As Rey walks away, Miku watches his back, smiling as she thinks of his encouraging words, of the one thing running through her mind.

'You're a tease.'

She shakes at that word, grimacing at the memories that arrive with that thought.

_You're such a tease, Kushiro. Just man up and be an adult already._

He had been angry then, like he hadn't wanted to wait any more. She knew that back then. Yes, she knew ever sicne she took that first drink he offered her of what would happen. It wasn't what she had wanted, but she didn't want to be considered that. She had never wanted to be called such a horrible and hurtful word as that. Yet now she was.

A tease.

Her head falls onto the table again, and as it does, she almost wishes the impact had been enough to knock her out completely.


	5. Chapter 5

For weeks their stressful banter went back and forth. One day, Miku would annoy Kyoya to the point of no return, his hand gripping around the air he pretended as his knife while he brutally desecrated her toned body with it in his mind. Oh, the things he did in his mind...

But the next day it would be her mentally beating the crap out of him, amongst other things... Yet she kept those hidden fantasies to herself, allowed him to think she hated him just as much as he did her.

For there was a truth behind Miku, something she didn't like to admit; she liked challenges. And Kyoya, being a challenge, was someone she liked.

Perhaps she didn't know it herself, but it was there in her, a constant nagging feeling in the back of her mind saying, _"Just be nice already."_, that little voice she kept ignoring in favor of the taunting, teasing one that would exclaim in its loudest sounds, _"You must win."_.

"Check it," she declared for the umpteenth time since their battle (or agreement, as that stupid teacher Hiro called it) began, pushing her traditional lunch-time apple juice across the table.

Kyoya had grown used to her antics, the way she talked too loud when she had something important to say, the irritating look she'd get in her eyes whenever she knew she could make his life hell, that stupid smile she'd wear whenever he said something mean to her, like she _liked _the verbal abuse.

Pouring a small amount of her drink into his empty one, he humored her and tried it, nodding right after. He knew in the pit of his stomach that she wouldn't do anything like that, not while their 'game' was going on. She wanted to win with such a passion that it frightened him sometimes, made him worry that – one day – she really _would _just tackle and rape him in a vulnerable state or something of the other.

She sat down with a grin on her face across from him, like usual, lightly nibbling on her scarce amount of food. Occasionally he would amuse himself with wondering why she ate so little. It wasn't as if she needed to be cautious of gaining weight; the girl was thin enough to be able to gain a few pounds while still looking just as striking, if not better.

But he didn't care enough about her life or herself to ask such a question. He was just there as the babysitter, it was no business of his what she chose to do with her life, so long as it didn't go against the agreement.

"What?" she suddenly asked in a softer tone than usual, earning the glances of the seven from the Host Club. They group of remaining six sat with the feuding duo out of courtesy to – and fear of – their Ootori friend. Confused, Kyoya gave his unwanted companion a questioning glance, unsure of what she had been asking of. "You were staring at me with this weird look on your face..."

And she tried her hardest to hide the blush and look away from his gaze because that look affected her. He had this soft, almost caring look on his face. She hadn't seen it before in her life from both him and others; it was so new and different from the usual lust-filled stares she received from men. Kyoya hadn't ever shown her that, and for a while she had been enraged and upset by its absence; was she not pretty enough for a boy like him? But that look just then had been more than she could handle, more than she ever thought she wanted from her captor.

"Did I?" he harshly answered, his voice quiet in hopes of hiding the malice in his tone. Despite their proximity to one another and the knowledge that no unwanted females would approach their table while Miku – Lord of the male Student Body – was around. "I must have been-"

He was going to say something rude to her, like usual, but stopped his sentence when he realized her attention was taken by something else. Her eyes glanced over his shoulder, hands poised on the table as if she were going to jump from it in a mad dash.

And as he went to turn his head to see, he heard the loud crash of a tray from behind his back, followed closely by the loud sound of frantic movement, the pounding of heels as Miku made her way across the cafeteria floor.

Turning swiftly in his seat, Kyoya analyzed the scene his responsibility – known as Miku – was heading towards. There stood a man of low social standing, a man he knew as Nakizuka Kenta, with his fists clenched and lips yelling ruthless insults to a fleeing girl he recognized. He remembered that blond hair and shy demeanor from the Host Club on that first day his hell-on-earth had started: that girl was Kihiro Nana.

"What the fuck?" Kyoya heard the enraged voice of Miku shout, despite being on near-opposite ends of the large cafeteria.

He watched as the blood drained from Kenta's face when the party princess had said such a thing to him. Nana had once told Kyoya that the Kushiro heir was 'kind', had she not? Was this her idea of _kindness?_

"Who the hell do you think you are? Who are you to say such things to that girl?"

Even without knowing her long, Kyoya knew that her rage was building with each word she spoke, the volume of her voice growing as if to shame the Nakizuka boy. He said nothing in his defense as she screamed and – as if his silence infuriated her even more – she raised her hand and brought it across his cheek.

The crowd watching let out gasps and whispers of question, unsure of what side to be on. The known player Nakizuka, or the ever-popular Kushiro? After a second of debate, most took to the latter, some wishing to clap in agreement of the action but their names and reputations preventing them from doing such a juvenile thing. Only Miku would have done something like clap or slap a man in public; she was fearless. She didn't care about name or worth or wealth, or if she did she certainly didn't show it.

"You are the biggest piece of trash I have ever met in my life. How dare you put her through so much pain. _How dare you._"

And she turned on her heel, chased the young Nana from the cafeteria, calling her name in a strangled voice.

"Dammit," Kyoya barely muttered, standing from his seat as he realized it was his duty to retrieve his fuming subject.

"Let's go find her," Tamaki kindly offered in assistance, standing from his seat and watching with such pride as the others in his group stood, as well. They were a crew, a group of friends who helped each other out when they were stuck in bad situations. And this was Kyoya's time to be helped. "Nana couldn't have gone far, right?"

Without even discarding their trays or Miku's hardly touched excuse of a lunch, they left from the cafeteria with a slow kind of haste.

It hadn't taken long to find the duo, either – just like Tamaki said, they hadn't gotten far. Just a little into the east wing, they had found them by the windows over looking the clock tower. And though Kyoya was about to rush in and separate the two girls from whatever they were doing, Tamaki halted his best friend's progression and placed a finger to his own lips in a form of command to be quiet.

"Let's see how this plays out, okay?" he whispered in the smallest of voices.

Unwillingly, Kyoya agreed, and as a group of seven they stood around the corner and listened in on the conversation.

"Nana," an out of breath Miku huffed out, leaning on her knees as she tried to catch the air she lost. "Hey, what happened there? Are you alright? Did he hurt you at all?"

A loud sob was heard from the crying Kihiro girl.

There was a pause, then a comforting, "Hey... Nana, it's alright... You don't have to face him anymore, okay? I'll take care of things if you're not strong enough..."

And then arms were flung around Miku's neck, a hug forced upon her by the still-crying, still-frantic Nana. Despite not knowing much, Miku hugged back. She didn't know who was to blame in that incident of whatever happened. All she saw was Nana approaching the boy she had a crush on for the longest time, that little asshole Kenta, and receiving a harsh insult – _"You're not worth my time", _as Miku recalls hearing – as a reply. Perhaps Nana had said something rude, too, but it didn't matter; in Miku's eyes, Nana was the victim. Kenta _deserved _that slap, no matter what. Hell, he deserved so much more, but she knew she would have gotten in trouble if she'd done it.

"Hey, Nana, don't cry. Stop crying, alright? You'll make me cry, and everyone knows how unattractive I am when that happens..."

A weak laugh was heard from both girls, as if it was an inside joke between them.

Lightly, Tamaki smiled as he seen the changing expression upon his friend's face. The hard Ootori had gone from condescending to confused to neutral then to caring, all in the matter of a few seconds of seeing the scene unfold. In those moments, Tamaki felt a kind of loneliness inside his being he wanted to ignore for as long as he could, push to the side until this scene, at least, unfolded.

"I-I told him I liked him..." Nana muttered softly, as if ashamed by doing so. "And he said I wasn't... I wasn't worth his time." And the tears began again.

Softly, the normally bad-attitude Kushiro wiped away a few tears, forcing her friend's face in between her hands in a form of keeping their eyes on each other in an attempt to strengthen what she was about to say.

"You listen to me, alright? Kenta is an asshole. If he can't see the greatness in you, then he's obviously not even worth the effort. He'll just be a heartache, you're better off without him." She sighed, dropped her hands, rubbed them against her dress. "Now, how about you dry those tears, we march back in there, and you tell me about what you want in a boy and I'll try my hardest to make it happen, okay?"

"But... I... I want Kenta." Another loud sob.

"Hey, hey, Nana. Before Kenta, you wanted Kaoru. Before Kaoru, you wanted Hikaru. Before Hikaru, you wanted Ren. You'll want another guy too, okay? They're just phases that are bringing you closer to your strongest one. Like Rock Lee!" The goofy smile on her face could make a kitten melt in awe of it, her entire expression lighting up in a way it never had before.

Wiping away her tears, Nana nodded, almost shamefully. "Y-You're right. I'm like Rock Lee."

"Uh... Well, you're prettier than Rock Lee, but you've got the determination!" She smiled hugely as she grabbed her friend's hand, swinging it between them as they began to walk back towards the cafeteria, the free hand of Nana still rubbing her eyes, Miku's pumping into the air as she began listing off things.

"You've got his charm!" Another pump. "You've got his strength!"

Nana began laughing as they neared the corner to turn, joining in on her friend's boyish manner. "I've got his spandex!"

Both lightly giggled at this, like it was the funniest thing shared between two females in the entire world.

Then they turned the corner, and both froze at seeing the seven of the host Club standing awkwardly against the wall, listening in...

"So, um... Spandex..." Miku hesitantly said, casting a look towards her friend that was concealing the giggles they both wished to release.

That day had marked the first nice act Kyoya ever saw his companion make. Before that, there had never been any sign of a heart to the girl, never been any kind of clue that she could feel what compassion or empathy was. Before then, she had seemed like a ruthless, cold woman who wanted what she did and got it soon after, someone he could easily despise because she hardly seemed any different than himself. And, God, was it easy to hate himself.

Yet when that day ended, she hadn't brought it up again, he hadn't mentioned it, nor did anyone else who witnessed it. It was as if it had never occurred in the first place, her one act of kindness forgotten about amongst the midst of her misdemeanors of cruelty which she continued to force onto Kyoya.

Tamaki sighed as he saw their harsh debating continuing on the next day.

He had thought, for a moment, that Kyoya had finally...

But no, he hadn't, and the loneliness inside the Suoh had disappointingly vanished.

**[Author's Note]**

** So, it's been a long time since I updated this... Sorry! That's totally my fault, I apologize so, so much. I'll really be trying to end this story for real now, which means a lot of updates soon. I'll do my best!**

** Also, reviews from you guys are the best thing since waffles, you know. I love hearing that beep of my phone and realizing that it says [review alert]. Honestly, you don't know how big of a smile you bring to my face, and how much you reviewers make me want to come home and write up the next chapter to publish just so I can keep that feeling. It's so intoxicating, so please feed my addiction and review so I can keep you guys happy, and we're all happy together!**

** That is my dream, to keep you all happy. I hope I do, thanks a ton for reading!**

** See you in the next chapter, dear readers and lovely reviewers.**


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